Humanity
by say mona
Summary: [ one—shot, Casino Royale. ] James was subconsciously aware that it was taking every shred of dignity within him: piece b ypiece.


**humanity**

She was sitting with her back up against the wall, the water covering her and soaking her skin. Vulnerable, that was the first thing that came to mind when he entered the bathroom and saw her; he saw the way she stared into nothing and sat with her arms over her knees in a way that spoke only about comfort—something she apparently needed right now. He was not a man used to giving such things; to him, women were 'objects to be disposed of,' or something similar to that—he could not recall her exact words.

The soft noise of the shower filled the room, and at that moment in time, it was the only sound there, apart from their breathing. Lowering himself so that he sat next to her, James glanced at her. She was holding onto his arm, her fingers digging into his skin whilst she trembled ever so slightly. He took a rough guess as to how long she had been sitting in the shower, probably over twenty minutes—maybe more, he didn't really know. Either way, he doubted it was safe for her to stay in under the cold water for a minute longer, but she was stubborn and he had an inkling suspicion that she wouldn't be moved, no matter what state she was in.

"Are you alright?" Odd, his voice sounded hoarser than usual, rougher and deeper, too, but he blamed that on being poisoned and almost dying. If it wasn't for her—he'd thank her later. Water dripped down on him at a steady rate and James felt his clothes begin to stick to him – bloody things; he'd have to change later.

"J-James…" Again, the word vulnerable struck him and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye; at her waterlogged hair and her pale face, the way her eyes stared dully at the floor. "I feel like I've got blood on my hands… and it won't go away." Her hands left him and she looked at them dimly whilst he watched her, transfixed by the horror that was now alight in her eyes. "It won't go away," she whispered again, and he reached out for her hand and held it to his lips.

Her fingers tasted strange, like martinis and spices—almost like the taste of danger he got in his mouth when he was what he liked to call a 'sticky spot'. It was amazing how one event could change a person; she'd seemed so calm and collected, so cool and refined when he'd met her on the train, and after seeing him kill two men, she'd been reduced (for lack of a better word) to this. Frightened, perhaps scared of him, but then again, she was only human. It was only natural to fear a killer—

He had done it to protect her—to protect _himself_. That was what it was all about – staying alive, because eventually, his luck would run out. Every agent knew that and as he was a newly ranked double-zero, he knew that better than anyone did. It was always the risk with every mission he was sent to complete—it was always there in the back of his mind, and now this woman's shivering body had personified it and the way she'd implied that she felt she had also killed someone. Albeit, she hadn't—he had—but it wouldn't stop her from _feeling_ it.

"Is that better?" He was whispering now, attempting to calm her and reassure her. She had every right to be scared of him, but he didn't like it… he didn't like _knowing_ that someone thought he was just as bad as their enemy was (because she was in the game, too, it wasn't just him)—that he was a murderer. It was his job to survive and he was damn good at it; he wasn't going to give it up any time soon. However good at the game, and the job, he was, James was subconsciously aware that it was taking every shred of dignity within him: piece-by-piece.

"Yes…" He'd barely heard her reply until he felt her shift against him and realised that she'd spoken. Pulling her closer to him, James cradled Vesper's head, stroking her hair. He wasn't a monster—he wasn't a killer. He'd done it for the good of both of them and yet he'd potentially endangered her life, even though she should've known the risks. She should have known, but he should have done a better job at concealing the device in his ear. He should have been better.

But he wasn't, and that was his downfall. With a tinge of bitter, hollow regret filling his mouth, James cradled the girl's head against his chest and made soft noises to comfort her. He turned the heat of the water up slightly because it was getting cold and he didn't want either of them to catch pneumonia, resting his cheek on her head softly. His job was taking his soul and his dignity, but very slowly, he thought he could feel this associate of his giving it back to him: piece-by-piece.

- - -

**author's notes :: **not the best thing in the world. I saw _Casino Royale_ today, and this is based on the bathroom scene where James finds Vesper. Yes, I missed out a few bits of dialogue and I probably got half of the speech wrong… but you know. It's my first time and I do apologize. Reviews are very much welcome and loved.


End file.
